The New Guy
by Dracona Mortis
Summary: I thought I'd get a nice, easy job of repairing the gear of some mercenaries. But no. I get a crazy group of nine people that refuse to tell me their names, and on top of that, they want me to pass some sort of orientation to join them! This is insane. No, THESE people are insane. But I may have found friends in three of them..
1. New Arrivals

**A/N: Guess who had another ideaaaaa... :3 -Points thumbs at self- I did :D. I wondered some stuff.. Got bored... And eventually started this. Enjoy, give me suggestions if you want to, criticize, but I swear to god no flames. I hate flames... Anyways, let the reading stuart! Oh, and cake if you can guess the chapter title. (I guess I'm doing chapter title easter eggs now...)**

I sighed, still not quite ready. I packed up all my things, which wasn't much, and so I only had a suitcase or two full of clothes and the like. I hoisted a backpack over my shoulder and dragged the suitcases down the stairs of my little ol' house. I stopped to hug my mom, Octavia. We didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but we still loved each other dearly. She tried to get me to reconsider, but I shook my head. I started out the door, but not before turning around and giving my mom the most confident smile I could muster.

"It's alright mom. I'll be back and safe before you know it. They'll probably keep me in the base, repairing equipment. Since that's the only thing I'm really good at." She sighed, nodding. She waved good bye as I made my way down the street, towards a shabby old building. I tried to block out her sobbing, telling myself that this was what I should and needed to do. Before I knew it, I was nodding at the desk manager. He asked me my name, age, and all that stuff. Then he handed me a form that I filled out, and then he sent me to one of the helipads. I got in, pulled my luggage into the aircraft, and closed the side doors. I sat back in the seat I got. The pilot was clearly not in the mood to talk, and honestly, I wasn't either.

Also I'm socially awkward, but that's beside the point.

I was jarred out of sleep by the pilot. We had reached out destination. I opened the side door and pulled my luggage out. I looked around, dusty lands surrounding the building. Everything within viewing distance that wasn't manmade was either A. Bone dry. B. Covered in dirt. C. Dead. or D. All of the above. I looked around a bit more, seeing the skeletons of long dead creatures that passed for fauna. Withered, brownish gray trees and shrubs passed for flora.

Yep. I was goin' with C.

I walked towards the entrance to the building, and looked up at the sign. It said "BADLANDS BARRACKS" and beneath it was a rusted metal door caked in dirt. I put a hand on the handle of the door, and pulled. It barely budged.

"Badlands, no way this place could ever be called the Badlands..." I muttered as I struggled with the stubborn door. It was like this inanimate piece of moisture exposed metal was sentient, and intentionally staying closed. But at the same time it made me marvel at how something COULD be rusted in this place that probably could pass as Satan's sauna.

After what seemed like months of pulling and struggling, I took a step back and looked at the door. Then I figured out what to do. I dropped my backpack on the ground, and started rifling through it. Various tools, spare parts, and mechanical things filled the pack. I pulled out a welder's mask, and set it down. My special welder's mask, with cyan glass instead of the usual black, and the lenses that you see through three horizontal lines around the middle of the mask instead of the large, square piece of glass that you usually found on welder's masks. Then I pulled out the blowtorch I had brought with me, smirking.

Always come prepared.

Soon I was cutting through the door, blue flames going through the dried metal that could probably pass as the fossil of a prehistoric creature, seeing as how this place probably hasn't seen moisture since the dinosaurs roamed the Earth. Halfway done I heard something, and stopped the blowtorch to hear better. It sounded like.. Like yelling...

Like a Russian that was angry, excited, or both.

Then the door came down on me, thankfully the mask protected my face from the furious door. I groaned slightly, a heavy weight on my torso. Finally whatever it was got off, and I cursed the door. Wait, why am I cursing a door? I should curse the mother hubbard who THREW the door on me! I got hold of the door, and threw it off the side of the building. I quickly got to my feet, ready to face the guy who literally got me in between a rock in the hard place, the building built with stone bricks and reinforced with concrete.

'Cause concrete makes _everything _better.

Then I saw who knocked down the door. Or, more accurately, the boom end of his rocket launcher. Being the socially awkward teenager I am, I couldn't say a thing. DAMN my anxieties!

"So, thought a turncoat like you could infiltrate the base!? Show your true face and fight like a _man!_" Came the voice of a crazed and abusive sergeant from World War II. Then he started quoting Sun Tzu. I would've said something, but that would probably get the better part of my upper torso blown off and most likely turned into charred bits resembling squishy charcoal.

So I let him rant.

And rant.

And. RANT!

It felt like an eternity, though it was probably two or three minutes, until I heard boots stomp onto the concrete enforced stone. Then, to my surprise, the rocket launcher was taken away from my face. The man carrying a rocket launcher had a helmet on, which looked like a steel bowl with loose straps hanging from both sides, and that covered his eyes. He was Caucasian, and wearing a red coat with the emblem of a rocket launcher on the shoulder of said coat. There were also three grenades held in place by a leather strap. He put the rocket launcher down and leaned on it, scowling. I heard him mutter something about me, maggots, and children not knowing how to fight these days. I was about to tell him what's what when the boot steps I heard came closer. I turned, and saw another man.

Though he looked sane...

... Ish.

He was huge, towering over me. I was already pretty tall, and taller than Mr. America over there. But this guy... Was gigantic. He had a strap of ammunition around his large torso, and black, fingerless gloves. His eyes were a robin's egg blue, almost, and was bald. He had a red shirt underneath a sleeveless leather shirt of sorts. He patted me on the back, which, not gonna lie, felt like someone smacking my back with the hilt of a sword. I forgot about my welder's mask, but couldn't take it off before I was thrown over the man's shoulder while he whistled. He also got my luggage, and even zipped up my backpack so the contents wouldn't spill. The soldier looking guy followed, seeming to be disappointed that he didn't get to shoot and slash or blow up anything.

Neither of these guys seemed to have a regard for personal space.

...

Oh dear god what have I done. I was carried into the building, and the trigger happy guy stopped to put another door up. Then the big guy who I presumed was Russian, because of his accent, took me down a hall that went down. Though I couldn't SEE where we were going, because-

HOLD ON! They just HAVE more doors to replace one at any given moment?

WHO DOES THAT?!

I hung my head, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. Then we came into a large room with nine lockers, nine beds, nine SEPARATE bathrooms, nine different gaming consoles, and nine doors branching off to different places. Each bed, locker, bathroom, and door were in their own little part of the room, a lot of space in between each one. Each bed, locker, bathroom, and door also had different symbols. One was a fist, one a rocket launcher, one a wrench, one a knife, one a baseball bat, one a flame, one a targeting reticule, a plus sign as if to signal first aid, and a bomb. Finally the Russian guy put me down and lumbered over to the station of sorts with the fist emblem.

My first thought when taking all of this in:

What is with the number nine!?

My second:

What's with the symbols!

And my third:

OH DEAR GOD!

Because there suddenly was a knife to my throat, accompanied by the smell of a cigarette. I barely saw the man behind me, him having a sharp suit, tie, white shirt underneath, and some sort of mask hiding every facial feature except his mouth and eyes, which were the same blue as the Russian guy's. He pulled off my welder's mask, which I had forgotten about. Then he studied me for a moment later, and then the next moment I was backing away a bit while at the same time fascinated by the knife he expertly sheathed and put in some hidden suit pocket. The way it folded, I immediately wanted to take it and examine it, and then create another knife, perhaps add extras to it. He cleared his throat, taking me out of my thinking of inventions.

"I am guessing you are zhe new recruit?" He spoke in a French accent. I nodded dumbly, still unable to find my voice. The Frenchman eyed me for a moment.

"Are you mute, or just prefer to not speak?" He took a drag from his cigarette and flicked it once. I took a deep breath.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit.. Socially awkward... Plus I'm talking to a guy who put a knife up to my throat.." I myself spoke with an accent, a slight one, sounding a bit like a Boston or New York accent. Or perhaps a mix of the two, but I've embarrassed myself a lot with that accent so I've learned to talk without it, mostly. He nodded for a moment.

"You can never be sure who your true allies are." I blinked, and started looking around again. Then I noticed a door near the bed with a wrench, it being mostly hidden from view.

"So uh... Nine guys on your team, or you guys just really like the number nine?" I took the masked man's slight nod for a yes on the "Nine guys" and asked my second question.

"Alright.. So where do I sleep and put my stuff?" He made a slight gesture toward the door near the wrench bed. I sighed, and took my luggage to that door.

This was going to be an infuriating job, for sure.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed, rate, comment, sub- ... Wrong thing. Wrong thing entirely. Review, criticize, maybe give me ideas of what to do, if you want to. I'll answer questions the best I can. Peace!**


	2. Meet the Team (And Bacon)

**A/N: Here's the second chapter of: THE NEW GUY! (FINALLY!) I got some inspiration from my dear friend Kittybigby (who drew me an EPIC birthday gift, by the way.) Enjoy!**

I woke to the sound of a bugle playing. I groaned, looked over at my clock, and groaned again. Who the hell wakes up at 5:00! I swear to god, if Captain America comes in here to wake me up...

"Up and at'em, soldiers! We are not wasting precious time with your beauty sleep, princess! Get up and get in line!" Came the voice that would belong to an abusive drill sergeant that went insane and lost a few IQ points along the way. I smashed my face into the pillow, and then lifted my head to sniff the air.

Bacon?

BACON!

I jumped up, put on a dark gray shirt, grabbed my red and black jacket, and was still putting my arms into my sleeves as I practically jumped out the door, surprising Rambo's long lost twin. I quickly dodged past him, following the scent of bacon. Bacon bacon bacon, gotta find that bacon...

Dodging past the Russian guy that carried me like a ragdoll yesterday, I made it to the mess hall sort of place. On a counter in the back was various platters with foods stacked quite expertly. I laid my eyes on the bacon, and rushed forward, making it to the counter before three men arrived.

One was the Russian, but the other two I hadn't seen before. The first was probably around his mid twenties, with sunglasses although we were inside. He had a hat that looked worthy of Crocodile Dundee. He wore a sleeveless leather vest over a red shirt, with a few straps of ammo decorating the front of it, the bullets looking like sniper rounds. He narrowly dodged out of the way before a kid running faster than I had almost slams into the table, right next to me.

He had wrappings on his hands, a red baseball looking hat, a pair of headphones with a mic pulled down around his neck, and a courier bag of sorts on his back. He had a red shirt, like everyone else, with the sleeves rolled up a bit. Dog tags jangled around his neck as he quickly turned his head to me, then the bacon, then back to me. His robin egg blue eyes narrowed, and I narrowed mine back at him.

Challenge accepted.

We both grabbed plates, and started pushing each other out of the way as one tried to get the bacon. I shoved into him, shoulder first, sending him far, and quickly scooped as much bacon as I could on the plate, not paying attention to all the other men arriving in the hall, some watching us with amused expressions.

The kid returned the shoulder charge to me, sending most of my bacon into the air. I grabbed his plate and caught all the bacon on it, even catching a stray strip in my mouth, then dumping it all on my plate and dodging away. I got my prize first. The bacon strip tasted like victory as I got all the other things I wanted, the kid next to me obviously knowing he was defeated. Though he wasn't so much a kid, probably around 18 or 19. About my age.

I sat down at the table farthest from all the others, and started chowing down on my spoils of victory, while observing all the others that got food. There was the soldier guy, the Russian, then some guy with goggles and a hard hat, and one of his hands covered in a yellowish glove that had gray fingertips. The guy with a balaclava, then the Crocodile Dundee look alike.

A black guy with an eyepatch came in, followed by the guy who could only be a Medic. The youngest person there sat down next to the Russian guy who looked like he could throw a minigun like I could throw a rock. I watched as the rest sat down, though a bit confused. Where was the ninth guy? I'm the tenth, so...

Most people froze, especially the Russian (Fuck it, just gonna call him Scott) and the kid next to him (Fuck that too, gonna call _him _Norman). I followed their gazes, then my blood running cold.

A.. person.. Walked in, announced long before entering the room by their muffled and distorted breathing. There wasn't much to describe, just a red asbestos lined suit, a gas mask that was the source of the odd breathing, boots, and black gloves with yellow tips, almost like a contrast to Mr. Hardhat's glove.

They took the last of everything (which wasn't all that much), and looked over at the table I was sitting at. Everyone watched as I stared back at it, seeming to wait for me to get up. Why would I..

Oh. Look at that. Someone burned the symbol of a flame into the table.

I looked around, then back at it, swallowing a bite of bacon. Er... Alright, I know I'm the new guy, but I think I know who the "group freak" is. I blinked, and got up. Then I sat in the chair across from the claimed chair (which had the fire symbol too.)

It cocked it's head to the side in apparent curiosity, before sitting down in the chair I had just been in. Instead of taking the mask off, it pushed the tray to the side and pulled out a notebook. I noticed that everyone awkwardly went back to their own eating and now much quieter conversations. I took this opportunity to name everyone, if they weren't going to give me their names.

Let's see... Scott, Norman, Dundee, Steve (I like Avengers. Bite me.), Nessie (What? I noticed his Scottish accent, and I don't have anything better), Toshiba (He looked like the technician sorta guy), Cigare (He had a French accent), Doktor, and.. Hmm..

I looked at the gas mask guy, thinking for a moment. Hmm.. Smokey seems ironic and funny, but too mainstream... I perused my mental bank of foreign words that meant fire. After a moment of thinking up something then waving it off, I thought of a good word.

Hoka ma! Or I could do taika... Decisions decisions... Eh, I'll go with Hoka ma.

After assigning everyone their names, I dug back into my mountain of food. I heard Steve talking about something, then realized I was the subject. Why not eavesdrop? It's a lunchroom. Delicious gossip.

"I don't like this new recruit. We don't need him! This team is running perfectly fine without a greenhorn dragging us down!" Steve ranted in his abusive drill sergeant fashion to Nessie, who merely gave a drunken burp after chugging down a bottle of Scrumpy. Doktor seemed excited though, rambling about a blank canvas. I felt like scooting even farther away, afraid that if he gets his hands on me, I'll wake up with a mega baboon heart in my chest and a dove stuck in there too.

Speaking of a dove, I could've sworn I heard one coming from Norman, who's face was _hilarious. _I had to resist laughing.

"Archimedes?!" Doktor looked over at Norman, who looked over at Doktor.

"I thought you got him out!"

"He must've gotten back in! Ah, well.. I could just perform zhe surgery again... Besides, I need to prepare our new recruit's new heart!" He sounded like he wanted to clap his hands together like a little school girl. Mental note: Stay away from the Medic for as long as you can.

Toshiba had finished his breakfast, and was now tuning a six string. Nice pick for an instrument. I looked over at Scott, who was omnomnomming away at what he called a Sandvich. Cigare smoked on his, well, cigarette, while Dundee ate his food in silence.

They had social groups in a group of _nine _people? Damn. I know everyone is different, but jeez. I tore my attention away from the sounds of a muffled dove coming from Norman's slightly moving chest, and looked at Hoka ma. Who was drawing. I subtly sat up a bit to see what it was.

A really cool looking demon that was breathing fire. Huh. I guess those gloves aren't that clumsy, or Hoka ma has just _really _good hand eye coordination.

And I _really _need to learn everyone's name.

Noticing I finished a long time ago, I looked around, and spotted where Cigare was putting down his plate. After he sat down, I got up and put my plate where he put his. Glad that this social disaster was over, I started walking out the door, only to be called to by a Boston accent.

"Yo! I haven't seen ya' around before! C'mere, lemme talk to ya." I blinked, and mentally shrugged. Why the hell not? Sitting down across from him, I watched as he finished what he was saying to Scott.

"So eh.. You da new recruit, eh?" I gave him a nod.

"What's your job to da team gonna be? I'm da Scout. Nice to meetcha!" He was quite pleasant, despite the arrogance I heard in his voice as he said much more arrogant comments to Scott. I shook his outstretched hand, still not saying anything.

"You mute or somethin? 'Cause I don't want another Pyro on our hands." Scott shuddered slightly at the mention of "Pyro", and I guessed that was Hoko ma.

"No just.. Not dat-" I stumbled verbally, lapsing back to my old Bostonesque accent. "That," I corrected myself, "used to people." I don't care he was the Scout, I'm still calling him Norman until I get his real name. But yeah. Norman blinked, then smirked, probably at my similar accent.

"You from Boston too?" I shook my head.

"Nah, Manhattan. But my parents would take me on frequent and long trips there, so I kinda developed a Boston New York hybrid accent. Don't ask me how." He nodded a little, before apparently getting lost in thought. I remembered his other question.

"Oh, and I signed up to be the Engineer of sorts. Repair the team's gear, maybe build something extra for you guys to use." Norman blinked, and smirked again.

"Ah, then I guess Engi's gonna take ya under his wing. He's our resident Albert Einstein. Dat builds automated killer machines." Engi, huh? He had glanced over at Toshiba when he said Engi, so I guess that was short for Engineer.

"And by the way, what's your name?" Norman looked at me. "Well uh, we don't really do names here, don't ask me why. It's just kinda our thing. We call each other by our profession instead of our names. Maybe it started wit da Spy, since he was one of da first on da team."

"..Alright.. Guess I'll just keep callin' you guys by my made up names..." I coughed. "So should I go.. Talk to Toshi- Engineer? Or.. What?" Norman thought for a moment.

"I guess you should go introduce yourself to him, since you're gonna be basically doin' the same thing as him." I nodded, gave the two a goodbye, and sat across from Toshiba. He had his back turned to where I was, casually picking at a string or two on his guitar while holding a blueprint with his other hand.

I leaned to the right to get a closer look, but I thought I should introduce myself before trying to look at the man's ideas. I awkwardly cleared my throat, and he turned around to look at me through his goggles. We shared an awkward silence.

"So uh.. I uh.. Hi." I resisted the urge to facepalm at how dumb I sounded. I regained my composure and tried again.

"Hi, I'm the new recruit... I signed up to be an Engineer too and since you're one too, I thought I might as well, y'know, introduce myself.. I don't want to invade your turf or anything." He smirked, and took a swig from a previously hidden bottle of Scrumpy. Jeez, was Scrumpy the Budweiser of the Badlands or something?

"Ah, don't worry about it. I'm always welcome to new people that actually share my interest instead of..." He searched for the right way to put it.

"Charging in guns blazing Rambo style?" I offered, which he smirked again and nodded. I couldn't help but glance at the blueprint.

"So uh.. Whatcha building? I er... I mean, you don't have to show it to me, if you don't want to.." Toshiba was probably the most normal guy here. And here I was, being mean and naming him after a brand of computers. With the brand name sounding pretty feminine. Maybe I'll change it to Acer or Dell.

"Nah, it's fine." He laid the blueprint on the table, and I moved to a chair next to him so I could see it better. I saw it had something to do with a tripod, and.. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!

"Jesus Christ, you are a _genius! _I've been trying to solve that problem with my own designs, but I always couldn't find the right kind of tool in my money deprived state.." He looked at me, apparently surprised by the compliment (and most likely my remark about my economic issues, but whatever.)

"Heh. I know what ya mean. It's hard gettin' one of those special tools that you never thought you'd never use but end up needing it-"

"-Then you see the price tag." I finished, smirking now myself. Jesus, we haven't even known each other for a minute and we're already finishing each other's sentences. The Texan nodded, amused and apparently surprised someone has an interest in his line of work.

"Ooh! I bet you could help me with something I've been working at for a while." Toshiba paused me.

"How 'bout you come to my workshop later? It's got all the tools you'd probably ever need." I gave him a small thankful smile, nodded, gave him a farewell, and hurried to my room. All the way thinking of how awesome it is to have another engineer as awesome as me.

I was so pumped to get working on the machines I made blueprints for, I ran into my door.

Good job, DUMBASS!

I looked around to see if anyone had seen, and awkwardly went inside. Let's say I didn't do that, but actually did do that. I narrowly dodged the dresser near the door (gonna move and/or burn that stupid thing later), grabbed my backpack, and threw myself onto the bed along with the backpack.

Rifling through it, I carefully pulled out a couple blueprints, put the backpack on the floor, and laid them out on what was less like a bed and more like a fridge with a mattress and a pillow. I'm dead serious that's what it is when not draped in so many damn sheets.

The first blueprint was of a tool of sorts, useful for cutting dense materials. Making it and then being able to mass produce them would work wonders on mines, easily cutting through material that would take drills hours to pierce. It was smallish, about the size of a Glock. Put a box on the front of the Glock, wings on the box, a counterweight hanging off the box, a rotator cuff on the wings, and you basically have what I was looking at right now.

Yes, I made a model.

...

Yes I sometimes held it and when no one was around went "Pew pew pew!" Bite me.

I turned my attention to the other blueprint, which was a badass flamethrower. It looked like a dragon, with the fire coming out where the mouth was. Not only did the design look sweet, but it also protected the tank of flammable liquid from being shot and potentially exploding. The wings could also lift up from the body, and form a shield of sorts, most effective against light firearms like pistols, and the harder part able to let grenades that bounce bounce off of it, effectively protecting the user.

Sometimes I wondered if I was destined to design shit for the military.

I then took out one of my biggest pride and joys, and laid the blueprint over the other two.

A mini ballista that, in exchange for having to shoot smaller bolts (that still could do serious damage), it was more mobile. And mounted on a tripod. Did I mention it was automated, and could be upgraded to be controlled remotely? It also had an amazing design to intimidate enemies. It looked like a bird of prey, so when you're running, you look up to see what looks like a big bird about to, I dunno, peck your eyes out or something, you get shot in the face with a bolt.

Sometimes I also wondered about my mental health, but, eh.

And the bird design just looked awesome. I call it the Iron Hawk. Don't like it? Bite me.

I put the blueprints back in my backpack, picked the backpack up, and started towards Toshiba to ask where his workshop is. Which I'll probably turn into a workshop of badassery.

Just my luck, I caught up to him heading towards there.

"So, I know you have an automated sentry turret... But ever thought about an automated ballista? Granted a smaller one, but still." He looked at me, a thoughtful expression on that face.

"Turning a still dangerous medieval weapon into an automated turret? That is creativity right there." I smiled faintly, and then we arrived at his workshop.

It was basically a big shed. Didn't look like much. Until we walked in.

I couldn't stop myself from rubbing my hands together at all the tools and materials. I looked at Toshiba, who was grinning, ready to get to work. We both got our blueprints out, and I had trouble deciding on which one to work on first.

Looking at the Iron Hawk, then at Toshiba's blueprint, and decided we could work on the same thing to an extent, since both of our projects would use the same basic machinery. Kind of. I'd have to figure out a way to rig the ballista so it would fire as soon as it's sensor picked up and enemy. Easy fix, though.

We started right away on the tripods, basically taking apart old sentries that had been blown up, though the tripods having survived. Then I started making the ballista's main body, it basically being a crossbow, but bigger and much thicker to handle the larger bolts.

As I carved my ballista's body from wood that Toshiba had stored away, I decided I should stop calling him Toshiba.

"So uh.. What's your name? I mean, if both of us will be Engineer it'll just be confusing, and saying "Engineer 1" and "Engineer 2" would just sound plain dumb... Plus, I'd rather use your real name." The Texan looked up from his incomplete sentry.

"Toshiba? Like them computers?" I couldn't help but chuckle too as I confirmed his suspicions. "Yep."

"Yeah, I don't really see the point in callin' each other by our job. And havin' two Engi's would just get confusin'..." He paused his constructing, and held out his gloved hand, "Name's Dell." I gripped his hand and shook.

"Isaac. And.. Dell? Jeez, I was close! Do you have a sister named Sony and a brother named Acer?" Dell had a look of such total seriousness, I almost thought he did. Then he started laughing, and I laughed too.

Finally, after finishing the ballista's main body, I worked on the rest of the body. After getting it done, I basically had a tripod and a crossbow the size of a Great Dane. Getting the various wires, sensors, and other knick knacks was easy. But actually rigging them up and programming them was harder.

After rigging the thing up, I made the bolts. Which were, for now, huge arrows with flint tips. Flint because gravel was, well, everywhere.

Stepping away from it for a moment, I examined my blueprint. Everything in order. Dell even had a few targets to test fire at. One had been duct taped back together. I tripped the sensor, getting it to fire at the target. The bolt went straight through, part of it exiting out the other side. Dell whistled, impressed.

"Damn, son. Thing could skew a horse." I nodded. "Wasn't that kind of the point of a ballista, back in the old days? Y'know, to take care of cavalry and other artillery." Dell thought for a moment, and nodded.

"'Cept the ones they used _were _the size of horses." I smirked. "Let's hope I don't go crazy with these and make one of the ones they used." We shared a short laugh, before I turned back to the ballista. Shutting it down, I had one more thing to do. This baby wasn't going on the battlefield. This one was my special one, kind of the working model that I kept and made all the others off of.

I find a few sheets of metal, paint, and take it all back to the automated ballista. I get my backpack, and pull out a selection of tools, along with my neat welder's mask. Cutting the metal into the pieces I want, I weld them together into feather looking spikes. I also make a piece that looks like a beak.

I paint an awesome blue flame design on the pieces, letting them dry, and while they did so, I reinforced the wooden body with some of the leftover metal, and then got the first of the pieces. I put on my welder's mask, just in case, and welded the silver beak to the metal I put on the ballista. Next, I started welding on the feathers in a sweet spiked feather fashion on the arms of the ballista.

As a final touch after letting everything finish cooling, I paint the rest of the body the same awesome blue flame design. Stepping back, I take off the mask, and marvel at my creation.

"This thing.. Is everything I dream my child to be." Dell looks up at me, just finishing up his sentry gun after a test fire.

"An automated piece of medieval weaponry that looks like a blue phoenix?" He quirked a curious eyebrow that I could barely see under his hard hat.

"You bet your biscuits, Toshiba!" I bet he was rolling his eyes at my intentional joke. "Who needs a child that whines and complains constantly, when you have a ballista that takes care of the friendly neighborhood robber and slash or serial killer!" I continue.

"You've got a good point there." He smirks, leaning on the sentry as I literally hug my ballista. "Just don't give it an artificial intelligence. I don't want a robot uprising, just because you wanted an automated ballista as a son." I grin deviously at him, like I'm considering that.

"I shall lead a robot army... And rule the world! Not even a blue robot with a hand cannon could stop me!" I gave a mock evil laugh, then laughed for real. Then an alarm went off.

"I er.. What's that mean?"

"That means it's time for battle. How long do you think it would take you to whip up a few more of these? Three perhaps?" I thought for a moment. Without the hawk design, it would probably take me..

"I could make you two in two and a half hours, probably." He nodded. "You do that. Be quick, but don't rush it and potentially cause something to malfunction."

"I won't. I'll be thorough but fast." Dell nodded, and grabbed a toolbox, a wrench, and a shotgun. As he trotted out, carrying a heavy as shit toolbox, I started working on the first _actual _ballista.

**A/N: So there we go! (FINALLY) My second chapter for this fanfic. I hope you guys enjoyed, this was brought to you by Mountain Dew and Kittybigby, who was liek, "When you gonna continue this fanfic? It be epic, demmit!" But yeah. Review, criticize me, tell me what you like, tell me if you have any ideas, (if you feel like telling me, anyways) I'd love to put some ideas of people that like the fanfic in here. As usual, no flames. Peace! *Disappears from existence***


	3. My Guardian Angel

**A/N: DUDUDU! I already got the third chapter out! Right before the 18th too. Now I can kick back, relax, and let people (maybe) enjoy this new chapter. But yeah. Hope you readers like it!**

Finishing the last one, I looked at my wrist, and scolded myself for not taking a watch with me. My conscience argued that I would need all the stuff I brought, but I tuned myself out while looking at the clock in the workshop. (Read that sentence again and tell me it doesn't sound weird to you.) Great, I made it before the deadline. Now.. Wait..

Hold on..

How the hell am I going to get these out to wherever the team is, damnit!? Ugh, I never think things through... A slight buzzing caught my attention, and I walked outside to discover.. A spinny glowy thing. Recalling Dell's blueprints, I realized this was one of his teleporters. Jeez that man is a genius...

Shrugging, I got both ballistae, one by one, outside. Taking a moment to figure this thing out, and after wondering if the ballistae would even go through, I figured that the thing was made for human traffic. Still, I was cautious, and tossed a small rock onto it. The rock was zapped by the... What part could I call that? The spinny thing? Whatever.

After getting both turrets through, I hopped on myself, prepared to be covered in black stuff. Coming out the other side, I narrowly dodged a stray rocket. Jesus Christ! Make it more obvious that this is definitely the start of a beautiful relationship, why don'tcha?

Hefting the ballistae up, I spotted a very familiar red shirt and hardhat. I started up the stairs, and joined Dell, figuring that he was on the outskirts of where the battle was taking place.

"'Sup CPU." I greeted him (poking fun at his name all the while), setting the things down. He gave me a quick glance that said "Oh, real funny", checking to make sure the sentry worked properly.

"Er.. Where do you want me to put these?" Dell looked up at me, then out at the various buildings where the occasional rocket would explode. He stood up straight, and used his gloved hand as a visor while surveying the area. I did the same.

"We're fightin' over each other's Intelligence. They want ours, we want theirs, etcetera etcetera. Right now, the BLU Engineer has a few sentries on certain points that keep us from progressing further."

"And you want me to set up the ballistae at certain points." Dell nodded, and I turned my head back to the area. It seemed to be we were standing on a outpost of sorts, right in front of the building where our Intelligence was. Watching our guys retreat and then rush forward again, I could see vital passages our enemies needed to get here.

Turning my gaze to an open manhole, I could assume the sewers were an option too. Norman was even jumping out of the sewers, followed by a few missing pistol shots, confirming my assumption.

"We should make sure they can't get to the sewers, as to make sure we don't get stabbed in the back while defending the building." Pausing, I noticed a roof overlooking the sewers entrance, and gestured towards it, "If I could get onto the roof, a ballista could make sure no one got in, and if they did, didn't get that far." Dell was nodding slowly, seeing my logic.

"Then I could put the other one there, and you could put one of your sentries on the other side to serve as a choking point, and funnel them out to where we could pick them off." I gestured towards the roofs I intended the turrets to be on, and he nodded in agreement. Now was the hard part of lugging one of these things to the roof without getting shot.

"But I'll need someone to kind of escort me while I drag this thing over there... Wait.." I spied a gleaming scope in the distant water tower. "We have a Sniper too?" I watched as the BLU Sniper narrowly missed Scott, who was toting a minigun and firing at the enemy. Dell nodded at my question.

"I reckon he'll cover ya'. Pretty sure Sniper would figure out your plan very quickly." I looked around.

"Alright.. Might as well go now.." Getting the turret under my arm, I was about to start walking, when Dell stopped me.

"Oh, and I almost fergot," He held out a kickass shotgun, "Welcome to the team, son." I gripped the shotgun in my other hand, gave Dell a thankful smile, and jogged as quickly as I could towards the roof.

Shit, shit, shit! Trying to do Matrix crap while carrying a shotgun and a mini ballista doesn't really work. Luckily I had cover fire from Dundee (The Sniper is the Australian guy. Go figure) and managed to get there safely. Deploying the thing, I made a mad dash back the way I came. Behind me I heard a beep, and the sound of a bolt being fired.

Next, Dell and I made our way to the choking point. We gave each other a thumbs up as soon as deploying the turrets, and quickly got back to watch our awesome creations go to work.

Like I thought, the BLU team scrambled to get out of the way of the turrets. I couldn't help but wince when a bolt buried itself in their Demoman's leg. My eyes widened as their Medic pulled the bolt out, and healed the wound back up with some intriguing machine.

"Er.. Dell?"

"Hmm?"

"The _hell _is that?" I gestured towards the machine, which our Medic also had. Apparently I missed the briefing about ironic guns that fire healing spray.. stuff.. instead of bullets. Jeez, I'd love to take one of those apart and figure out how those work.

"Ah.. You'll find out how the Medigun works out first hand soon enough." He shuddered a little. "Oh, and I advise that ya' try to keep away from the main battle fer now. Medic didn't get the chance to do that surgery to ya' yet." I wanted to ask, but was interrupted by an explosion.

"Damnit!" Dell growled in annoyance as the remains of a sentry rolled downhill. That's bad. Then the BLU Soldier, Demoman, Heavy, and Scout all came surging through the now cleared path.

"Oh shit! I think the main battle is headed for _us!" _I bit my lip. "You don't, by chance, have another sentry hidden up your sleeve?"

"I got the materials fer one.. But definitely not the time." I nodded. Looks like I got to fight. Yay?

Another scattergun round found it's way into the wall, then a rocket shaking our backs violently. Come on, where was everyone else!? We kinda need the cavalry right now.

"Come on, come on... Where's the cavalry!?" I peeked from behind the wall, only to retract my head just in time to avoid getting shot. I prepared myself to try and fire blindly with the shotgun, but my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a flamethrower and screams, along with Norman's remarks as he hit the enemies on the head with his metal baseball bat.

Jesus it sounded like it hurt.

"'Ey! You guys alright?" I gave a thankful and breathless grin to Norman and Hoka ma.

"Mmph mmph!" Came the mumbled cries of victory. I noticed the blue suitcase full of papers on Hoka ma's back. Norman seemed uneasy around our resident pyromaniac, but nonetheless pumped.

"Well let's not wait, mumbles! C'mon!" Norman patted the being of undetermined gender on the back, and all four of us hurried to the Intelligence room. Hoka ma slammed down the suitcase on the desk, and a woman's voice came over the intercom's.

"Enemy team's Intelligence has been captured. Victory." We all gave a few whoops and cheers, me not really knowing why other than the fact we won.

"That means that the two teams will have a ceasefire until each of our bosses gives us the next mission." I blinked. Awesome, so I already had a long break to do whatever the hell I wanted?

Everyone returned to the base in the middle of nowhere. The first thing I noticed was that there was a second bed in my room, on the opposite side of my bed. That confused me quite a bit as I shook the dust off my jacket, and sat on my bed. There was a nightstand next to the second bed as well, and a pink backpack next to it.

Pink?

"Oh thank you, Doctor! I can't wait to start help fix up everyone!" Came the voice of a girl, most likely around my age. I got up and went out the door, passing a girl that was indeed about my age. I tried to pay her no notice as she talked to Doktor, but he caught sight of me.

"Oh! Vait! I must speak wizh you, Herr (second) Engineer." I turned, and glanced at the girl, before looking back at the German Medic. What I saw of her was a quite pretty, blonde, blue eyed girl. She had a pale complexion, and was probably about 5'6. She wore a white shirt with a few black decorations on it, white pants, and black boots.

"Ve must perform zhe procedure so zhat zhe next time ve go out in battle you I can heal you vhen you get injured." I raised an eyebrow.

"The procedure? May I at least know what it is first before I agree to it, Arzt?" He blinked, and sighed.

"It vould take too long to explain, and you need it eizher vay!" He gestured for me to follow, and I followed, confused. A few team members saw me as I followed Doktor. Norman shuddered as he watched me pass by, and I no longer heard a dove from him.

Alright, calm down Isaac. How bad could this POSSIBLY be?

"Er.. Doktor, should I be _awake _for this shit? Because you're supposed to put a patient under before performing a surgery." The man merely waved a dismissive hand and gave me a "Bah". He pulled out a huge heart from the fridge, and I gulped. It made me a bit worried my chest had been.. Well.. Literally ripped open. At least he used painkillers?

"Let's see here... Zhere ve go.." He put a.. Meter of some sort in the heart, and held it under the ray of what seemed to be that Medigun Dell talked about. It started beating faster, and glowed a pulsating red.

"I don't think that's exactly normal." Then he just plopped it right next to my stomach. Eugh. He _healed _my ripped open chest, and helped me up.

"Zhere you go. Now run off and do vhatever. I have notes to write." He sat down at his desk, so I took the opportunity to subtly run out of the room, and felt a wave of paranoia. I was looking over my shoulder so much, I ran into the door. Again. Is this just gonna become a habit of mine or something!? Then my new roomie opened the door, so both of us ended up on the floor, in a pile of tangled up limbs.

"Uh... What's up?" She blinked, utter surprise on her face. "I.. Uh.. *Ahem*" We both blushed.

"Right!" Scrambling up, I helped her onto her feet, both of us awkwardly shuffling to our respective beds.

"So uhm.. I guess we're roommates?"

"Uh-huh..." God this was awkward.

"I uh.. Name's Isaac. I'm working along with Dell to make all the machines the team uses." I gave her a small, polite smile. She returned the smile.

"Nicole. I'm going to be working with Medic to help fix you guys up." The mere thought of medicine made me shudder, which made her look at me in confusion.

"I hope you don't look forward to Doktor's surgery. He plopped a huge heart right next to my stomach and called it a day." Nicole's jaw dropped.

"Without putting you under?"

"Nope." She covered her mouth with her hand, and I could imagine her saying "OH THE HUMANITY!".

"Well, look at it dis way.. Today I was da reason a guy's calf was torn ta shreds. But their Medic has a Medigun too." I was feeling too awkward, trying to lighten the mood, that I barely noticed my accent coming back to haunt me. "I couldn't help but feel sorry for da guy."

Nicole tried to stifle a giggle that was directed to something about my remark. My eyes widened, and I blushed. I turned, and got my backpack onto my bed, then pulling out a notebook. I sat with my back to her, sketching ideas for various projects I thought of.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at your accent." I gave her a sheepish smile before returning to my sketches.

"It's fine. I only usually lapse back into it when I feel really awkward, angry, etcetera." She blinked, and nodded.

A few hours later, Steve's bugle echoed throughout the place. I swear to god, I'm going to use that thing as a football.. Well, I was tired anyways. I put the notebook back in my backpack, kicked off my very dusty boots, threw my jacket onto the foot of my bed, and planted my face in my pillow, trying to drown out the bugle.

I turned off the lamp, and Nicole turned off hers. Now this was really awkward. I'm just glad we don't have to share a bed or anything...

"Good night, Isaac."

"Er.. Gute nacht, Nicole." I had a habit of speaking foreign language phrases, alright? Got a problem? Bite me. The blonde had a look of bewilderment, before letting her own face be buried in her pillow.

The very small window in the room let sunlight come through, dappling me and the floor with golden sun juice. I groaned, and put the pillow over my head. At least it was really early..

I quietly put on my boots and jacket, and crept out, making sure not to disturb anyone. Making it out to the outside, I gave a sigh of relief, the wind not really present today. Sitting on the edge of the helipad, legs dangling, I had time to myself to think and reflect on my life choices. This choice? Put it on a one to ten scale that measures confusing, and it would get a solid fifteen.

I gave a quick look around, and peeked back inside, then seeing that Norman was up and awake. He headed towards what I assumed was the gym of sorts. Shrugging, saying why not to myself, I went inside and followed him.

I couldn't help but whistle, impressed by the boy scoutish creativeness of these guys. They used broken sentries for dumbbells, for Christ's sake! Norman himself was doing pull ups on what looked like an improvised trapeze bar. Looking around, I spied what I was not expecting to be here at all.

A pool.

A _fucking _pool!

How did they get a _pool!? _Jeez! Norman noticed me after doing a jump off the bar that was worthy of gymnastics.

"'Ey! Wasn't expectin' you up dis early. Though, you did beat me to da bacon yesterday.." He smirked, as did I.

"Yeah, well, when you're woken up by that damn bugle and then smell bacon, you can't help but make a crazed dash towards the mess hall." I crossed my arms idly.

"Heh, you got a point there." Then I noticed the plate of bacon on a table next to that improvised trapeze bar of his. As if on cue, my stomach growled. Norman picked up his bacon, and held it close to him, all the while chewing on a strip. The rest of the morning was spent me chasing after the kid. Then I gave up, swiped some bacon before everyone else, and retreated to my room to sketch ideas basically the rest of the day.

I can be antisocial, alright?

The next day, the ceasefire was called off. So, terrific. Before the fighting started again, I made sure to make three ballistae. My other two had been blown up. Then, I made a fourth, but this time it had incendiary bolts. Oh yes. Though some kinks still needed to be worked out with the bolts, so that one wasn't used. Right as I finished up, the battle alarm went off.

Yay. I get to be shot at again. Fun.

I growled, crushing another sapper beneath my foot. Damn spy. I kept my back to the wall while fixing my ballista. I decided to bait him. Feigning ignorance, I started out the door, and used my wrench as a mirror of sorts. Right as the BLU Spy came up behind me, uncloaking to strike, I whipped around, wrench right to the face.

Ooh, that's gotta hurt.

"Gotcha, bitch!" He tried to get up, but was interrupted by another wrench-to-face impact. Then my ballista beeped, and I averted my eyes as his back was struck with a bolt. He went limp, and after checking for a pulse, I threw him in the river. Bad mistake, as soon his Medic fished him out, and used that Medigun. Me being glad it didn't need to be used on myself just yet.

Sitting there for a bit, watching flames, rockets, and bullets fly, I turned around, only to be face to face with the BLU Scout's bat. Home running me right off my roof perch. The ground hurt, especially when the kid used my torso as a pillow. Still a bit tender, since he stepped on the new second heart and all.

"Heh, knucklehead." I growled, and coughed. He wasn't expecting one of Dell's sentry guns to beep, causing him to run. I imagined a "Wobwobwobwob!" as he ran, like he was one of the Three Stooges. Giving a thumbs up and a breathless smile to Dell, I climbed back up to my perch to look around.

Oh...

Norman was squaring off with the BLU Pyro, and losing. Miserably so. Like, as in an axe in your calf. My natural reaction was, of course, literally jumping back off that perch and taking off in a run, while grabbing my shotgun, which was leaning against the wall. Climbing another roof, I stealthily went roof to roof, until I was behind the Pyro. I took careful aim, and watched as the guy casually ambled up to Norman, who tried to crawl away to the best of his ability.

Right as I was going to pull the trigger, a bullet went right through my right arm. High caliber, too, leaving a huge hole. I screamed out in pain, though was glad that he missed.. My..

Fuck.

The Pyro had noticed me, and was now aiming with Norman's scattergun. I was pushed off the roof, or more accurately kicked, by a BLU team member that had snuck up on me, most likely the Spy. I struggled to get up, and used the wall to steady myself, clutching my injured arm.

An evil laugh came from the Pyro, and a scattergun round finished what the sniper round had started, blowing off the arm. Which hurt. A lot.

"MERDE!" I shouted out, clutching the ragged stump, trying to stem the bleeding, while I fell to my knees. The scattergun took aim at my head, and I had a few seconds to make a decision. My vision went from Norman, to the Pyro, and then was trained on the Pyro.

Dell ran, shotgun in hand, towards the shout of Isaac. He really shouldn't have cut so many gym classes. Oh well. The RED Engineer made it just in time to see the kid about to have his head blown off by the BLU Pyro. Making a split decision, he stopped, and fired at the Pyro, catching it right in the side, and off guard. It dropped the scattergun, and stumbled to the side. He saw the BLU Spy disappear, but that didn't matter. He had two badly injured team mates.

"Medic!" Dell yelled out while helping Isaac over to Scout. He grimaced at the severed arm, and sat down next to the two, trying to help stem the bleeding while watching for the German man. He made it soon, and healed Scout's leg, before stopping at the sight of Isaac's severed arm. The Texan was hoping that Medigun didn't have it's limits, but then again, he had never seen anyone's limb blown off.

"Ach.. I don't zhink I can do anyzhing ozher zhan seal zhe wound and stop zhe bleeding..." And after a moment, the Medic also said, "It seems zhat our friend is rejecting zhe heart.. I vill have to take it out as soon as ve get back..."

"Well shit, I'm only here three days and I already have to be decommissioned.. I bet that's a new record, ain't it?" Isaac gave a pained smile and chuckle as the wound sealed off. Then his smile dissolved, at remembering "Oh yeah, I lost an arm".

I was helped along by Nicole, who (not so) gracefully offered to walk me along. My remaining arm idly held the shotgun Dell gave me. What, I couldn't keep a souvenir? The girl then tripped at the same time as me, causing us both to fall face first. It hurt my shoulder, but I still couldn't help but laugh as I helped Nicole up. Then my laughing was cut off. We weren't in a ceasefire yet.

Great, I just jinxed us.

A metal bat found itself against the back of my head, sending me into the wall, and then knocking Nicole unconscious. I whipped around, shotgun still in a tight grip, but the blow to the head made me groggy. The Scout laughed, along with the Demoman and Pyro.

Definitely jinxed.

"Time ta finish what Pyro started, one arm!" I stared at him with angry eyes, not really able to overpower the three. Though I did get a good punch in their Demoman's remaining eye. (Their Demoman was a white, English cyclops. Go figure.) Which he paid me back for. Totally worth it.

Alright, now it was time to make my grand escape. Though it would be hard, and I'd be off balance missing an arm _and _carrying a person. Plus there were three guys with guns that intended to shoot me, then make sure no one ever found the body. I smirked.

"God is really disappointed in you three." I said in a fearless and official tone. They all gave me really confused looks.

"You see, I was sent here to test you... And you came up negative." I watched as the Scout let Nicole fall to the ground so he could punch me. I ignored the pain and just kept my serious and official face.

"Wot? The bloody 'ell are you talkin' about!?" Their Demoman asked in a raised voice.

"Yeah, what do you mean, ya chucklehead? It's not like you're some holier-than-thou angel! Hah!" He lightly elbowed the other two, and they laughed. I just gave them a total look of seriousness, and they awkwardly ended their laughter.

"You serious? You're expecting us to believe that?" He looked at me unbelievingly.

"What would you do if I proved I was an angel?" The three looked at each other, then back at me.

"Er, I dunno.." I smirked at the Scout. "Then figure it out."

Nicole had began drowsily waking up, and froze in fear. She looked up, and saw Isaac, surrounded by the three BLU team members. Her jaw dropped when she saw.. something emerge from Isaac's back.

The three stepped back in surprise, jaws dropping.

"That's right boys. You blew off the arm of an angel. Making them _pissed _in the process!" My wings were unfurled fully, a wingspan around 16 feet. The feathers were snow white, speckled with black spots. Apparently my biology had taken lessons from Snowy Owls.

I thoroughly enjoyed their expressions, and taking advantage of this, grabbed Nicole by the back of her shirt, and took off. As I thought I was off balance, and teetered dangerously near a few roofs a couple of times. Finally I stopped risking flying into a wall, and landed on a roof.

Supporting Nicole's half unconscious body, I got us into the teleporter, though not before tucking my wings under my jacket and shirt again, glad the Medic hadn't wanted to take an X-Ray, over even fully take my shirt off for the surgery. I guess ripping open the chest worked.

I set her down on her bed, and sat in mine. My first impulse was to draw, but I couldn't without my dominant hand, so I settled on packing up the little bit of stuff I pulled out. Too bad, I was really starting to like it here at Satan's sauna...

Nicole shifted a bit on her bed, me giving her a few glances. She finally sat up, and looked over at me drowsily.

"You were almost killed..." I blinked, and then nodded. She furrowed her eyebrows, "But how did we get away..?" She rubbed her eyes for a moment.

"I.. Saw an angel.. But I bet it was just my imagination." I faked a smile.

"Yeah. You probably saw an owl flying overhead while I dragged you back." She looked at me, almost accusingly, before her confused look dissolved into one of understanding.

"I see... Thank you Isaac." I gave her a genuine smile this time. The girl had started to grow on me.

"That's what friends are for." I turned off my lamp, kicked off my boots, and took off my jacket. Then I basically passed out instantaneously.

Nicole watched as Isaac went to sleep, still confused. She turned off her lamp, and as she went to sleep, she thought of when she imagined those beautiful wings on him as he got her back to the base.

"My guardian angel..." She whispered.

**A/N: Wings: Fact, or fiction? Who knows. Nicole fantasizing already ^_^ XD But yeah. I hope you guys enjoyed this little number, tell me what you liked, tell me what I could improve on, I'm open to ideas for this, and I'm also open to questions if something confused you. Peace! *Gets consumed by a New Orleans band roaming down the street***


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